CHAPTER 161: WHAT THEY HAD WAS FAILING

The silence didn’t last. At first, it was just one moan, which was low, deep, dragging through the necrotic mist like a warning bell. Then another joined it. And another. Soon, the forest itself seemed to hum with the chorus of the dead.

From every fissure, from behind the crooked roots and the blackened ferns, shamblers began to emerge. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Their bodies were a patchwork of decay and glowing fissures, with some dragging limbs that refused to fall off, others crawled on all fours like untamed beasts. Each of their eyes burned faintly with violet fire, a reflection of the crystal Kelvin had just shattered.

Darius spat, while his knuckles was tightening on his gauntlet. "We woke the nest." Kelvin turned in a slow circle, with his lance heavy in his grip.

Xerion circled him, and flames was spilling from its jaws as though it was ready to ignite the whole forest. "They are drawn to the crystal’s energy. We killed their Alpha, but we just made ourselves the beacon."

Lyra’s breath came ragged. She had already spent too much essence forcing those shadow chains in the last fight. But Salaris spread its wings like nonetheless, feathers were rattling with restrained power. She gave a shaky smile, though her lips were pale. "Guess, that makes us the center of attention."

The first shambler charged. Its jaw wa unhinged too wide and bones were snapping as it screamed. Rhoam met it mid-stride, the panther slammed into its chest with armored fury.

Bones were cracked, the shambler disintegrated under sheer force. But when its corpse hit the ground, the earth itself pulsed. Necrotic mist coiled tighter.

And then the rest came. A wave of them surged forward. Not one or two, it seems like an entire tide. "Hold your ground!" Kelvin shouted.

Xerion inhaled sharply, with flames igniting across its wings. With a thunderous roar, it unleashed a sweeping vortex of fire, the blaze ripped through the first line of undead.

Dozens were burned with their shrieks piercing, but their corpses only seemed to fuel the next wave. The necrotic mist was thickened and flames was choking under its grip.

Lyra stepped forward, shadows spilling from her fingers in writhing arcs. Salaris shrieked overhead, amplifying her weaving. Black spires erupted from the ground and the front ranks were pinned. But her arms trembled violently. The Elite battle had drained her essence too deeply. Each weave cost her blood.

Kelvin glanced back at her with jaw set. She won’t last if we don’t break through soon. "Darius! Push them left!"

Immediately, Darius slammed a palm into the earth. Soulfire runes flared outward, tracing into a crescent. "Rhoam, drive them!" He commanded.

The panther roared with plated tail sweeping like a hammer. It charged the line, smashing into shamblers with crushing weight, funneling them into Darius’s rune. The sigil exploded in a burst of azure flames, consuming dozens of undead in a spiraling implosion.

But still they came. The ground shook and roots split. More fissures opened. From them crawled a twisted variants, shamblers that are swollen with cyst-like growths of necrotic light, their bodies were glowing like grotesque lanterns. As they neared, their swollen cores that pulsed dangerously.

Kelvin’s eyes was widened. "They are going to explode!" "Then stop them before they reach us!" Darius barked.

Xerion dove with its tail lashing as flames whipped forward. Two of the glowing shamblers erupted in fire, showering the battlefield with burning ichor. The shockwave flung Kelvin back and dirt scattered across his armor.

Lyra staggered, clutching her chest. "If more of those get close, we are finished." As if the forest heard her, more fissures split open. Five... ten... fifteen of the glowing shamblers crawled freely, each was pulsing faster and hungrier.

Kelvin’s mind raced. If they are all linked to the same necrotic circuit... then breaking the connection will be difficult. "Darius!" Kelvin shouted. "The fissures, are they anchoring them?"

Darius’s eyes darted across the battlefield. The glowing roots, the pulsating cracks. His eyes widened in realization. "Yes, they are tethered to the forest itself!"

Kelvin’s grip tightened on his lance. "Then we will cut the leash." He leapt forward with flames spiraling around his weapon. Xerion roared and followed, their combined aura is burning bright against the violet storm.

Together, they charged straight toward the nearest fissure, but shamblers clawed at them from every side. Salaris dove, shrieking with shadows trailing from its wings. Its talons slashed through undead necks, clearing Kelvin’s path.

Kelvin drove his lance into the fissure. Fire raced down the crack like lightning, erupting outward. The ground convulsed as the tether snapped. The nearest glowing shamblers froze mid-stride, their cores were flickered, before collapsing into heaps of ash.

"Yes!" Lyra gasped. "It works!" But there were dozens of more fissures. Each one was thrumming with that same violet pulse. Darius gritted his teeth. "We will have to break them all or they will keep spawning."

"Then let’s carve a path!" Kelvin roared. Rhoam bounded ahead, armored with bulk smashing aside shamblers as though they were paper.

Xerion swept low, its wings igniting the trees, forcing the horde to scatter. Salaris darted between them, shrieking curses into the mist, shadow-traps binded those that were too slow to escape.

The Crest moved as one that was burning, breaking, sealing fissures as fast as they could. Each one they destroyed weakened the tide.

But the shamblers grew more desperate, their movements were more sharp and precise, as though the forest itself sought to protect its lifeblood.

Kelvin’s arms burned, every muscle that was screaming. Sweat and blood dripped into his eyes. But he kept going. Every strike of his lance was guided by his memory, his parents’ faces, their last stand, their fire was burning in him still.

One fissure left. The largest yet. It pulsed like a beating heart, a violet energy spilling outward in waves. Dozens of shamblers encircled it, their bodies were forming a wall of flesh and bone.

The Crest regrouped, panting, bloodied, but unbroken. Lyra leaned on her knees, with shadows flickering weakly around her. "That one... it is different." She said.

Darius’s eyes narrowed. "It is the root fissure. If we break it, this whole sector of the forest dies." Kelvin twirled his lance, with fire igniting along its runes. He looked at Xerion, who bared its fangs, wings flaring with molten heat. "Then that is exactly what we will do."

The shamblers roared, charging as one last desperate wall and the Crest answered with everything they had left.

It wasn’t just a wound in the earth, it was alive. The crack stretched across the blackened roots like a glowing vein, its violet light flashing in a steady rhythm. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Each beat sent another shudder through the necrotic forest. The moans of the undead matched it, as though the horde itself was the fissure’s heartbeat.

Dozens of shamblers crowded before it. Not stumbling. Not clumsy. They stood shoulder to shoulder, swaying in eerie rhythm, their eyes fixed on the Crest like zealots protecting a sacred altar.

Kelvin tightened his grip on his flame-wreathed lance. His body screamed from exhaustion, every muscle aches from hours of combat. But when he looked at the fissure, at the endless stream of horrors it had vomited into the world, he felt his jaw set. "We will end this, here and now."

Xerion’s scales glowed faintly red, its wings were flexing wide as molten flame seeped through the cracks in its hide. The End-Tyrant gave a low, earth-shaking growl that rumbled through Kelvin’s bones. Yes, let’s burn it all.

Darius adjusted his dented armor, wiping blood from his mouth. Rhoam padded forward beside him, its armored hide cracked and smeared with black ichor, but its golden eyes were burned with unbroken fury. "One push. That is all we have got left in us."

Lyra’s breathing was shallow. Sweat moved through her brow, her hands were trembling as she drew shadow into her bowstring. Salaris hovered above, feathers slick with necrotic ash, its beak were stained like crimson.

The raven let out a sharp screech that cut through the moaning horde. Lyra nodded faintly. "One push... then no more shamblers and no more whispers."

The fissure pulsed again. The shamblers screamed and surged forward. Kelvin roared, charging to meet the wave. Xerion swept above him, while carving fire through the first ranks. The shamblers ignited, but their burning corpses clawed even as they fell, desperate to drag him down.

Rhoam smashed into their flank, its armored shoulder broke the bones like kindling. Darius followed with a hammer swing that shattered a skull, soulfire runes glowed along the weapon’s edge. Each impact shook his battered frame, but he didn’t falter.

Salaris dove low with black feathers exploding outward. They slashed across the horde like blades while cutting tendons and forcing the creatures to stumble.

Lyra’s arrows followed, weaving into the shadows like threads. Where they struck, shamblers froze in place, where they were bound by cages of darkness.